


Tranyc

by Bittodeath



Series: Prompts [9]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: JastObi, Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, Lapdance, M/M, Mand'alor Jaster Mereel, Misunderstandings, Tumblr Prompt, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:07:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26231644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittodeath/pseuds/Bittodeath
Summary: Written for a prompt for more JastObi.In an AU where Plagueis and Sidious have died in a starship accident, Korda 6 didn't happen and Dooku was Obi-Wan's Master, Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi is sent undercover as a dancer in a strip-club to retrieve some information... however, he gets mistaken on his source and ends up giving a lap-dance to Mand'alor Jaster Mereel, who was no expecting that but has no reason to protest.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Jaster Mereel
Series: Prompts [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1865308
Comments: 16
Kudos: 198
Collections: JastObi





	Tranyc

Obi-Wan “Ben” repressed a sigh as Quinlan touched up his make-up with a grin. He tried not to squirm, despite the tiny golden thing disguising as shorts that kept riding up his ass and plastered his cock to his body. The packing Quinlan had insisted he stuffed down the front of his shorts only made things worse, especially as Obi-Wan considered himself endowed enough that this wasn’t necessary. Gold glitter had been dusted all over his body, and black khol underlined his eyes. There were also strands of gold braided with small bells in his hair, and his shoes were absolutely horrible.

He was confident he could walk and fight despite the inhumane heels, but that didn’t mean they were _practical_. They laced up to his knees, making his legs appear longer, and golden rings were wrapped around his biceps. The things you did for a mission, really – he was thankful Master Dooku didn’t see him like this, his old master would probably have a fit seeing his darling Padawan adorned as a… dancer. What Obi-Wan disliked most was the lack of his lightsabre, but there was reasonably no place to keep his lightsabre – aside from the one Quinlan had suggested, earning himself a sound slap at the back of his head from Master Tholme.

It was just retrieving information inconspicuously from their contact, and Obi-Wan was a Jedi Knight fully determined to see his mission to its end. He knew his contact would be wearing Mandalorian armour painted in metallic grey and red. There weren’t many Mandalorians in that part of the galaxy, so finding one corresponding to this description, vague as it was, would be easy.

“Breathe”, Quinlan said. “You look fantastic.”

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to slap him. Sometimes, Quinlan was the most annoying friend ever. He almost punched him when Quinlan slapped his ass with a hoot, but the Kiffar was already sliding away, leaving him to his role as Ben, or, as his stage name was, “Sunny Ben”.

*

If he was being honest, the only reason Jaster had entered the club was because he wasn’t against some eye-candy, and indulging the whims of his younger commandos. Which was how he was currently sitting in a chair watching over the dancers, his helmet on the table next to him so he could drink, even though it also meant he had no sound-dampeners on and the music was incredibly loud.

“And now, dancing for us for the first time tonight… he’s a shiny new thing, please give a thunder of applause for Sunny Ben!”

The lights dimmed and rearranged to focus on the silhouette on the central stage, and Jaster nearly crumpled his tanker in his hand at the sight. _Ka’ra_ but he was the drop-dead kind of gorgeous, with hair so red it looked like fire, slender hips and a muscular body fit of a dancer. Cherry on the cake, those tiny shorts of his hid _nothing_ of his magnificent ass, especially as he danced. He watched, entranced, as the young dancer hypnotized the crowd with the lascivious shift of his hips, hands attracting attention to his crotch, to skin dusted with gold, to grace and strength coiled in one body.

Like all things, it had to end, and he shook himself as another dancer took the scene. His tankard was still held up halfway to his lips, and his codpiece was… very uncomfortable. His attention snapped back to the present when he felt someone moving through the bodies pressed tight together, and he soon saw “Sunny Ben” come out of the sea of bodies, a smile on his lips, only a few meters from him.

And coming towards him, smiling and flirting, but never pausing his way forward. From up close, he was even more gorgeous, lights flickering in his eyes and tiny shorts leaving almost nothing to the imagination. Jaster wanted those shorts gone and- He squeezed his fist to focus back on the present – which wasn’t very effective, when the first thing he saw were Ben’s tight abs and a small but vivid red happy trail leading down to- to the waistband of too small damn shorts.

His body moved with the music and suddenly, Jaster had a lapful of almost naked gorgeous man – though, not exactly a lapful. Ben was… dancing. Writhing in his lap, suggesting much dirtier activities that lit a fire in Jaster’s blood. He raised a hand, asking for permission to touch the dancer, who gave him a smile and a nod, long lashes darkened by make-up brushing coyly at his cheekbones. He ran his hands up his sides, gloves coming back glittering gold, the boy – he was young, that much was obvious – trembling in his lap from the rough touch of used leather against his skin.

“I heard you got something for me”, Ben purred in his ear.

Jaster’s hand tightened on his hip.

“Damn right I do”, he replied, emboldened by the fiery, daring dancer – if Sunny Ben wanted the D, he would certainly not refuse him. He grinned. “I’m not giving it to you until you’re begging for it, though.”

There was a flicker of surprise in Ben’s eyes, followed by a grin that sent a jolt through Jaster. Ben’s hand slid up his torso, the dancer leaning forward.

“I look _forward_ to it”, he replied.

Jaster had never been so glad he’d walked into a club.

**Author's Note:**

> tranyc: sunny (lit: star-burnt).


End file.
